


blackened earth

by screechfox



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Arson, Canon Non-Binary Character, Crush at First Sight, Jude Perry-typical sadism and pyromania, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22172251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/pseuds/screechfox
Summary: Shortly after meeting, Jude and Ashes burn down the Institute together. Later, they'll call it their first date.
Relationships: Jude Perry/Ashes O'Reilly
Comments: 28
Kudos: 135
Collections: The Magnus Archives Rare Pairs 2020





	blackened earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nemainofthewater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemainofthewater/gifts).



You wouldn’t think of Jude Perry as the type to believe in love at first sight, and for the most part, she doesn’t. Love is a pathetic flicker of feeling that can easily be snuffed out with the right pressure — and Jude is very good at finding the right pressure. A foolhardy person might bring up Agnes, and if Jude was feeling uncharacteristically merciful, she would explain that Agnes, being a goddess in human flesh, inspired _worship_ on first sight. A passion that threatened to tear Jude apart, a devotion that nearly killed her when Agnes died.

It’s a feeling that Jude never expected to have again, but loitering outside the Magnus Institute, she watches an unfamiliar figure flick a lighter on and off, and she falls a little bit in love.

They’re attractive. Not Jude’s normal type, admittedly; Jude tends to go for the sweet ones hiding sharp edges, and this person looks like a forest fire embodied. Bold hair and piercings, with an old-fashioned outfit that seems utterly out-of-place in modern day London. And, of course, the flames casting a warm light on their skin complete the picture.

As casually as she can, Jude sidles over to this stranger’s side, eyeing the bronze metal of the lighter admiringly. Worst comes to worst, Jude knows what she’s taking from the corpse.

“Nice day for a fire,” she comments, a sly smile on her face.

Most people would jump, but the stranger doesn’t even blink. They arch one eyebrow, looking Jude over in obvious irritation. When they click the lighter on this time, they don’t turn it off.

“What days aren’t?” they reply, and Jude laughs, sharp and unpleasant.

“Can’t argue with that.”

“You want something?”

“I can’t have a friendly chat with a stranger, one-on-one?”

“Sure you can, if you’d like to get burned.”

Well, aren’t they bold? Jude hums, contemplating her next actions. She’s been restless lately, just _dying_ to extract some despair from some poor pathetic soul, and this stranger’s sheer confidence would be enough to set her off on any other day. It’s much more fun tearing down the lives of people who have things to lose. But it’s been a long time since Jude met any fresh faces in this strange and deadly world they live in, let alone one who could be something of a kindred spirit. She isn’t lonely, of course; she just wants a fresh spark in her life, some kind of variety to the seemingly endless days.

Time to make introductions, she decides. What’s a third degree burn or two between friends?

“Jude Perry.” She holds out a hand. The stranger eyes her with distinct skepticism, muttering under their breath as they pocket their lighter. It really is an odd coat, more 1920s than anything Jude would classify as modern. It might be stylish in certain areas of London, but not here.

“Ashes. Ashes O’Reilly.”

Jude feels her smile turn vicious with anticipation as they take her hand.

The expected screams of pain don’t come.

“Huh,” Ashes says, staring down at their charred flesh with mild curiosity. “Nice trick.”

Jude tightens her grip, just to be contrary, watching as the skin blackens beneath her melting fingers. If there’s a hint of pain on Ashes’ face, Jude can’t see it. They’re impassive, though one corner of their lips is curving upwards in quiet amusement.

“Good to meet you,” they say, and Jude realises she isn’t going to get a reaction out of this one.

“You’re no fun,” she replies, taking her hand back and beginning to mould it back into shape. “The last person I tried that on screamed in agony. I hear it scarred awfully.”

“Sorry.” Ashes shrugs, and already, Jude can see their flesh knitting back together. “No scars on me. Better luck next time.”

“I could try for your heart,” Jude suggests, playful. “That might be a little more permanent.”

Ashes laughs, hair falling in front of their face as they shake their head. With their unburnt hand, they pull their lighter back out of their pocket, turning it over and over between their fingers.

“My lungs would be your best bet, but I wouldn’t hold your breath or anything. A lot of people have tried to kill me before, with more firepower than, uh—” they glance at Jude’s hands, “—whatever you’ve got going on.” 

“It’s wax,” Jude offers, not really knowing why. “Molten wax. Malleable and durable.”

“Right. Just the hands?”

“Oh, no.” Jude presses a demonstrative finger into the wax of her cheek, though it fails to get the expected squeamish reaction. “Everywhere.”

“Huh. I guess the universe is still full of surprises after all.”

With that, Ashes seems to lose interest. They turn back to the Institute, looking up and down the building with a calculating expression. There's a smell in the air like gasoline. They flick the lighter on, the movement automatic, and all at once, it’s clear what’s going on.

“You’re going to burn down the Institute, aren’t you?” Jude asks, full of glee.

Ashes turns and blinks at her as though they’re surprised she’s still there. After a moment’s consideration, they smirk. Jude feels her heart — a charred and blackened thing at the center of her chest — beat a little faster. Wax drips to the floor, hissing as it hits the pavement.

“Yeah. Got a problem with that?”

“Not at all. In fact, I’d be happy to help. I’ve wanted to see this place go up in flames for years.” She presses her hand to one of the bricks, leaving burn marks where she touches. Not effective as a strategy for arson, but Jude is only trying to endear herself to this pyromaniacal stranger.

Ashes considers her, then shrugs their shoulders.

“Sure, why not? This kind of thing is always better with company.”

They pull out another lighter from their pockets, just as old-fashioned as the first, and toss it to Jude. Cute to think that Jude would _need_ a lighter, but every little helps! The metal warps below her fingers. The heat of the flame fills her with a rapture she hasn’t felt in a long time.

(It’s at this point that some unacknowledged wistful part of Jude’s soul wonders if she’s stumbled across her god incarnate all over again. It seems unlikely, but stranger things happen every day.)

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Jude starts once they've prepared to set the building alight, “is there any particular reason you want to burn this specific building down? It’s a hell of a coincidence if not.”

Ashes is silent, and Jude smirks. A sore spot, excellent.

“It’s an ugly building, I know,” she continues, “but I worked in the banking sector for years and never felt the urge to commit arson.” She hesitates, then grins. “Well, maybe once or twice.”

“Payback,” Ashes mutters as the flames begin to crackle, then they raise their voice. “It’s payback. Best kind of payback there is.”

“Revenge?” Jude considers her feelings on the Eye, the Institute, and the Archivist, and heat sparks between her teeth. “Sounds like we’ve got a lot in common, doesn’t it?”

“If you say so.” Ashes sounds very dubious about the idea.

The fire is climbing higher and higher, eating away at the stone. There’s a tinny ringing from inside the building, accompanied by panicked shouting that’s music to Jude’s ears.

“We should probably be taking our leave,” she suggests, regretful. “It’s always such a palaver when they try to arrest me. I know I’m a sadist, but some things are just gratuitous.”

“No such thing,” Ashes replies, back to that faint amusement. On another person, Jude might call it restrained, but she gets the feeling there’s nothing to restrain — Ashes plain and simple doesn’t give a shit. “Actually, I was thinking of getting some marshmallows.”

“… Marshmallows?” 

“That’s what you do on this planet, isn’t it? Marshmallows and an open fire?”

Jude hums in agreement before she really processes what Ashes has said. Then she laughs, cruel and incredulous, hair falling in front of her face as she shakes her head.

“Oh, _please._ 'On this planet?' Are you trying to convince me that you're an alien, or something?”

“Or something,” Ashes agrees without hesitation, a nasty smile crossing their lips.

Jude raises an eyebrow, pointedly looking Ashes up and down. They look as human as anyone else Jude spends time with — probably moreso, given that they aren’t made of wax.

“It’s a long story,” Ashes continues, unbothered by Jude’s scrutiny.

“If you say so. Don’t worry, I’m not interested,” she adds when Ashes opens their mouth again. “That’s not my thing.” It’s a bit of a lie, but Jude will do a lot to distinguish herself from that ever-ignorant watcher. Jude must be imagining the faint tinge of disappointment that crosses Ashes’ face. Whatever it is, it vanishes after a moment as they shrug, rummaging for something in their pockets.

“Well, if you change your mind…” They hold out a flyer. Their hand, Jude notes, is entirely healed.

Jude takes the flyer, though it’s a struggle not to burn it instantly. _The Mechanisms,_ with a date, a time, and a place. 

“Me and my band are performing tonight. Telling old stories, and the like. If you come along, I’m sure we can all have a lot of fun together.”

Ashes’ tone isn’t precisely flirtation, but it’s eager. Their dark eyes reflect the growing flames, enthralling and enticing in equal measures. Maybe it’s time Jude finally moved on from Agnes and the Lightless Flame. It’s all petty squabbling these days. Jude can feed the Desolation easily enough by herself — or not by herself, as the case may be.

“I’ll be there,” Jude promises, tender as an exposed nerve.


End file.
